


The Boy Behind the Costumes

by TripleX_Tyrant



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Cosplay, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Puppy Play, costume play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:44:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripleX_Tyrant/pseuds/TripleX_Tyrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recently Rick had taken a liking to dressing Morty up in costumes. About once a week, he would come home with a new outfit for Morty. Morty used to love his secret, private moments with Rick, but now Morty can't help but feel that he and Rick want different things from their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Behind the Costumes

**Author's Note:**

> I really want to dress Morty up in lots of cute outfits. But Rick will have to do it for me. Thus, this story. Enjoy!

Rick lay on his side behind Morty on the cot in his room, propped up on one elbow and using his own legs to keep Morty's apart. Morty was panting lightly, eyes screwed shut as Rick stroked his length and every now and then ground his own hard member against Morty's bare bottom. Rick watched the brown, folded plush puppy ears wiggle on their headband each time Morty tossed his head to either side. A long, nylon leash ran between the cot's metal frame and the thick D-ring of the brown leather collar around Morty's neck. On Morty's hands were brown, fingerless gloves with thick, fuzzy cuffs and the image of paws on the palms which matched the make of the fuzzy knee socks on his feet. To complete the look, Rick had administered black face paint to the tip of Morty's nose and liberally around one eye.

“Good boy,” Rick said. “You're my good- good puppy boy, aren't you?”

“Uh… Uh-huh.”

Rick stilled his hand. “Morty.”

“Yeah?” Morty replied weakly.

“Open your eyes. How are you supposed to know you're my puppy boy if you can't see yourself?”

Morty opened one eye, then the other. Across from them and propped against Rick's table was a rather large mirror that Rick had brought in last week so that he could see Morty's costume-clad body from multiple angles. You see, recently Rick had taken a liking to dressing Morty up in costumes. About once a week, he would come home with a new outfit. It had all started when Summer was organizing her picture gallery on her computer, and seeing her in her soccer attire, Jerry had made the comment that it was a shame that Morty didn't take to the sport. The idea was enough to flip a switch in Rick's mind, awakening a desire. The next day, he procured a uniform in Morty's size and convinced the indignant boy to put it on.

Since then, Morty had been periodically welcomed home from school to Rick eagerly shoving plastic suit bags and cardboard boxes at him containing a variety of costumes. For Rick's new fetish, Morty had taken on several personas, including a prep-school student, a boy scout, and even a paperboy complete with hat, shorts, and little suspenders.

“See Morty? Y-you're my cute little puppy boy.” Rick resumed his gentle stroking, and Morty sighed, shoving his butt back against Rick. His eyes threatened to flutter closed, but Rick grabbed the leash and jerked, gagging Morty. “Ah ah ah. I told you to look. Now let's try again. Who's my good puppy boy?”

Even though Morty knew he was expected to answer, he couldn't help but feel the question wasn't entirely directed at him. There had been a time not too long ago, before the costumes, when Morty had adored these passionate moments of his and Rick's secret relationship. When Rick would put his cold demeanor to the side and openly express his affections for Morty, and for him Morty would be a good boy, a bad boy, or whatever type of boy the mood created. But that wasn't who Rick was speaking to now. No, Rick wasn't talking to Morty Smith. He was talking to Morty the puppy boy. Just like when he was talking to Morty the boy scout or Morty the young chef.

Again, Rick tugged the leash, and the collar dug delightfully into Morty's throat, quickly distracting him from his objectification as he sucked in a whistling stream of air.

“Or are you not a good boy?” Rick traced a single finger up Morty's cock as he took his hand away.

Morty swallowed, the lump stinging as it passed the collar. “N-no, I am,” he squeaked, and Rick released his hold on the leash. “I-I'm your good p-puppy boy. Please don't stop, Rick,” he whined.

Rick petted Morty's head, a pastime not exclusive to the puppy version of Morty. “I think this puppy is ready for his treat.”

Morty perked up. Now this he was excited for, ever since Rick told him about it last night. He had never used a butt plug before, so Rick made sure to pick a thin one. A “beginners plug” as he called it. Morty didn't know why he needed something “for beginners” when he'd managed Rick before, but Rick was pretty set about it, so he didn't argue much. Had it not been for Rick, Morty wouldn't have known how much he enjoyed being stretched and filled in the first place.

“Are you excited?” Rick asked, moving out from behind Morty to sit at the foot of the bed.

Morty pulled his knees up and propped up on his elbow. “Uh-huh,” he said with a smile.

“First thing's first. Speak.”

Morty knitted his brow. “W-what? Rick, I don't...”

Rick groaned. “Come on, Morty. You're a puppy, get it? If you want your, y'know, y-y-your treat, you have to obey. Now speak!”

Now Morty's brow furrowed. Rick was going to keep up the puppy-play. Wearing the costumes was one thing, but Morty just could not bring himself to really get in character. But it was an unfortunate combination to be turned on and upset at the same time. On one hand, he was sick of the pretend, but on the other hand he really wanted Rick to continue. He sat up, the pink rising to his cheeks, and he opened his mouth.

“W-w-woof,” he said quietly, but Rick looked unimpressed.

“Th-that was the most human sounding dog I've ever heard, Morty. Try again.”

Morty's face grew hotter. There was no way he could do this. Absolutely not.

Rick stood with a sigh and picked his pants up off the floor. “I guess you don't want your treat,” he said, sticking one leg in.

Morty's eyes darted between Rick and his own reflection in the mirror. He glared at his costumed self, looked down at his clenched fists, and with burning cheeks he began, “Woof… 'oof. Arf! Arf!”

The look that Rick gave Morty as he dropped his pants was similar to the expression one would wear when watching an actual puppy or similar small animal. The look of one whose heart is in the process of melting. Not, Morty noted, the look one shared with a mature lover. Rick stepped up to the cot and planted a hand on Morty's shoulder. He grinned, his lower lids puffing up.

“It's treat time.”

When Rick turned around, Morty rolled his eyes. He went to the table, reaching behind the mirror to procure the treat. Morty saw him slide it out to the end of the table not hidden by the mirror: a jar of gel with the back of the plug sticking out. But that wasn't all. When Rick lifted the slicked, black plug out of the jar, he saw that connected to it was a bushy brown tail. Of fucking course.

Rick dipped his fingers into the jar and then, carrying the tail in both hands, stepped up to Morty as if to present some holy relic. Morty fiddled the sheets between his fingers. “So…,” he started, “th-that explains why the costume didn't have a tail.”

Rick licked his lips and let the tail drop, holding the plug as he took up the leash. “Raise your ass f-uuur-or me, puppy boy.”

Well, it was still going to feel good, and he was still excited, so even though the thought of having a tail sticking out of his butt was embarrassing, Morty did as Rick said, turned onto his hands and knees, and presented his butt.

“Mm, you are going to enjoy this, Morty,” Rick said, his voice growing low and making Morty tingle. Rick sat on the foot of the cot and gently petted Morty's bottom. Then he ran his freshly lubed fingers against his ass. As Rick teased his entrance, Morty whined in relief and lowered his head to the pillow. This was good. Rick was focusing on him. This was really really good. Finally, Morty felt Rick remove his fingers and replace them with what had to be the tip of the plug. Rick slid it across Morty's anus a few times, making Morty clench and twitch before slowly pushing the tip in.

Morty gasped, feeling dizzy as his hole was slowly stretched wider, wider, wider still, the plug feeling far too large for how it appeared. Then, suddenly, his muscles seemed to shut like a shutter, swallowing the plug. Morty whimpered. It was in.

Rick stroked down the tail, back up over Morty's plump cheeks, and back down, petting the tail against Morty's thigh. Even these gentle tugs were enough to jostle the plug within Morty and make him spasm around it.

“How is it?” Rick asked.

On weak hands, Morty rose up and looked back at Rick. “Mnn… 's w-weird. But I- I think I like it.”

Rick removed his hand from Morty's thigh and sat back, looking between Morty and Morty's reflection – two wonderful views of his obedient puppy boy. “A happy puppy should wag his tail, don't you think?”

Morty looked in the mirror and blushed. He looked ridiculous, and even if the plug felt good, he still thought the poofy protrusion was embarrassing. But when Rick lowered his voice and said a gruff, greedy, “Do it, baby,” and gave the tail another pet down the back of his thigh, Morty panted out. He swallowed it back, trying to regain his composure, and stared down at the bed between his hands before giving a bodily wiggle. When Rick laughed at this, Morty slammed his eyes shut and harrumphed.

Rick placed a hand on Morty's spine. “Keep this still,” he said, then slid his hand back, cupping both palms against his hips. “And move these.”

Morty did as Rick instructed, trying to sway only his hips from side to side. Rick hummed in delight, holding Morty's hips as he moved them. Then Rick removed his hands, fingertips lingering for a second, and watched the tail sway. He leaned down and gave one cheek a kiss before grazing his teeth over it. Morty moaned quietly, then his muscles squeezed around the plug, sending shock waves to his groin and making him whimper out. He shoved his knuckles against his mouth and lowered himself gently to sit on his feet. Rick put a hand on Morty's shoulder and lifted the leash, leading him to turn around and face him, which he did slowly.

“Good boy. I think you earned yourself another treat,” Rick said, raising up on his knees and taking hold of his dick at the base, aiming it at Morty.

Morty leaned forward and dragged his bottom lip against the head of Rick's dick, and even though he liked when Rick stroked his fingers through his hair (being careful to pat over the headband), he could see Rick turn his head to watch in the mirror. To watch the puppy.

“Rick,” Morty said, lifting his gloved hands and rubbing his palms on the front of Rick's hips, “watch me.”

Rick hummed and planted his palm firmly on Morty's head as the boy ran his tongue up his shaft. He lapped his tongue all along Rick's length, up then back down, along the side and sloppily back and forth under the head. The way Rick watched him, pupils dilated, tongue trailing just behind his bottom lip, made Morty's heart swell and his muscles clench around the plug. Morty panted lightly as he licked, his own hips rocking ever so slightly against his full feeling.

Unwilling to take the teasing any longer, Rick gave the leash a little tug and Morty opened his mouth, eyes closing as he took Rick into him. His moist lips glided on Rick's slick dick, and when Morty slid his hands down to the front of Rick's thighs, he relished their trembling. He looked up to see Rick watching him still, panting through bared teeth, and when Rick's eyes did flick over to the mirror, Morty slipped his hands around back and gave Rick's ass a firm squeeze. At this, Rick moaned out and locked eyes with Morty. The look of arousal mixed with mild surprise made Morty swallow around the plug again, and he whimpered around his messy mouthful. Rick groaned at this, his hips bucking and leading Morty to work faster. To take him deeper. The sounds of both their panting, moaning breaths filled the room, each charging the other with their sounds of pleasure.

“Shit,” Rick spat, fingers tightening in Morty's hair, his other hand tugging the leash as a now redundant warning.

Morty wasn't always a swallower, so when he did manage to do as he was now – face thrust forward, taking as much of Rick into him as he could as Rick shot his spunk down Morty's working throat – Rick's orgasm was sure to be particularly powerful. Rick's hips shuttered, riding out the orgasm as he moaned, and when Morty pulled back along the hypersensitive member, Rick's legs gave out and he fell to his butt. He shoved a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath.

“Did…,” Morty began, rubbing his hand on Rick's knee and giving him a small but sneakily proud smile, “D-did that feel good?”

“Hell yeah it did,” Rick said. “I'm gonna n-n-need a minute. Or ten. Damn.”

Morty chuckled and crawled forward, nuzzling his nose against Rick's neck. “But I-I'm horny now,” he whined.

It was Rick's turn to chuckle. He turned his head and planted a kiss on Morty's cheek and mussed Morty's hair. Then Rick said something that Morty couldn't stand:

“You're a good sex puppy, aren't you, boy?”

Morty frowned and pulled away. He pulled the headband off and tossed it down on the bed before reaching back and unbuckling the collar, throwing it down and standing up.

“Hey, hey,” Rick said, pulling his legs out from under himself and setting his feet on the floor. “What's with the... with the rush? I haven't gotten you off yet.”

Morty pulled his gloves and socks off, responding with a curt, “I'm not in the mood anymore.”

“O-oh really? Really, Morty?” Rick asked, growing cross. “You know, cause I think your raging erection might say otherwise.”

Morty looked down at himself but otherwise ignored Rick's comment. He grabbed the tail, tugged it, and when it didn't come out smoothly he put a foot on the cot and worked the plug out before dropping it on the bed. Then he went to the dresser where his clothes were sitting and began to get dressed.

“What the Hell, Morty? What's with the sudden attitude all of a sudden out of nowhere?”

Morty threw his shirt on and walked to the door, not even turning back as he said, “I'm just not in the mood, okay?” Then he opened the door and stepped out, closing it quickly behind him and leaving Rick dumbfounded and annoyed.

 

Having arrived home about fifteen minutes ago, Summer was lying on the couch watching TV when Morty entered from the kitchen cracking open a soda can. Bending to sit made Morty's ass sting, and he hissed as he did so, taking the seat against the arm opposite Summer. He took a gulp of his soda and sat the can on the coffee table.

With eyes never leaving the TV, Summer asked, “No adventure with Grandpa Rick today?” She asked not so much out of interest as having thought they weren't home. But when Morty replied with a simple “Nah,” she found his tone melancholic enough to grab her interest and take her eyes away from the TV. But looking at him, the only words she said were a perplexed, “What's on your face?”

Morty's hands shot to his face, scrubbing the backs of them over his nose and eye as he mentally kicked himself. How could he have forgotten the face paint? “Did I get it?” he asked, having succeeded only in smearing the black paint.

With a smirk, Summer said, “Go look in the mirror.”

Morty continued to rub at his eye as he started out of the living room. He stopped when Rick entered, silently side-stepped him, and went on to the bathroom. Summer was quick to pick up the mood.

“Wow, what did you stick up his butt?” Summer asked.

The unintentional humor of Summer's vocabulary wasn't lost on Rick as he circled the couch and took Morty's seat. “Honestly, I don't have a clue. One minute w-we're fine, and the next he's ss-storming off like a pouty little asshole.”

They listened to the sound of Morty's footsteps through the dining room and up the stairs. Summer sat up and picked up Morty's soda can.

“If he's not coming back, I'm drinking this.” She took a few gulps, then lowered the can and made a gesture with her hands. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren't you gonna go talk to him?”

“Psh, screw that. If he wants to go pout, that's his problem.”

“Uh-huh,” Summer said before taking another drink. “Is that like your hypermasculinity talking, or just your own general asshole-ishness?”

“I don't see you jumping out of your way to comfort him, _Summer_.”

“I don't care if he's pissy. _I'm_ not the one who has to deal with it.” Summer took another proud sip and added, “There. Now you have an excuse to care.”

Rick sat for a moment, bobbing his knee. Then he slapped his hands on his thighs and spat, “Dammit,” before standing up and heading out of the room.

When Rick entered Morty's bedroom, Morty was too busy lying back on his bed and messing with his phone to look at him.

“Morty,” Rick said, closing the door behind him, “what's your deal? D-did I do something I don't remember doing, cause surprisingly I'm not drunk right now so that'd be really concerning, Morty.”

Scrolling through an article he wasn't really reading, Morty replied with a rather flippant, “Since you don't remember, it must be nothing, right?”

Rick sneered. “Is that supposed to mean something? OK, Morty, can you at least look at me?”

Morty slammed his phone down beside him on the bed and sat up. “That depends. H-how about you start looking at me again? How about… w-when we fuck, you recognize that it's _me_ you're doing all these things with?”

Rick turned in place, looking to the door, then back at Morty. “Alright, first, keep your voice down. OK? Summer's home. A-and second, where is this coming from? When have I not looked at you? If I wanted to look at someone else, I could go anywhere in the multiverse to snag me a piece of ass. It'd seem pretty stupid to go through the trouble of getting those outfits if I wasn't gonna look at you. Did you consider that?”

“I'm not your dress-up doll!”

And just like that, Rick understood.

Morty continued, “A-and I'm not an obedient dog. I'm not some... l-little boy you can push around anymore. You've got it in your head I'm just your grandson who you get to tell what to do cause you're in charge. That can't be how this relationship works, Rick. I don't-- Ow...”

Morty swung his legs off the side of the bed with the intention of standing but was stopped by a sharp pain.

Rick stepped up and placed hesitant fingers on Morty's knee. “You OK?”

Turning his head down, Morty quietly replied, “My butt's sore.”

“Yeah I'm not surprised. Y-you kinda ripped your tail out.”

Morty folded his arms and scowled at the floor. Rick gave his knee a pat. “I'll get you some cream.”

 

For the rest of the day, the two stayed pretty much apart. Mostly because Rick didn't know what to say and Morty had nothing else to add. The next day, Morty received a text from Rick asking him to come to his bedroom when he got home. _“It's not a command. Just a request.”_ So he did. Morty arrived home ahead of Summer as usual and walked into Rick's room, which was empty so Morty sent a text telling Rick he was there before siting on Rick's bed and looking at himself in the mirror. He was a plain looking boy too small for his age and greasy faced after a full day of school.

 _“I could go anywhere in the multiverse to snag me a piece of ass.”_ Maybe Rick was going to break up with him. Maybe Morty had been naive to think Rick was taking this seriously. Or maybe Morty's understanding of what an adult relationship was was childish and misguided.

A portal opened up in front of the mirror, and Rick stepped through beaming with enthusiasm and carrying a thin cardboard box in his arms. Morty's shoulders slumped. The portal disappeared, and Rick sat the box on the cot.

“Heyy Morty!”

Morty stood up and waved his hands at the box. “Aw come on, Rick. Are you serious?” He crossed his arms.

“Don't go berserk on me, Morty. I already ordered it and I don't want it to go to waste.” Morty started for the door, so Rick added, “I think you'll like this one.” He circled around Morty and grabbed the doorknob. “Look, I'll step out, a-and when you open the door, you'll either be changed or you won't.” He held his hands up defensively. “Like I said, just a request. It's your choice.”

Morty gave a wary groan. “I'm going to like it?”

Rick grinned. “Maybe.” And with a wink, he slipped out of the room, leaving Morty to his privacy.

For a second, Morty fidgeted before the box. Then his curiosity got the best of him and he pulled the lid off. When he lifted the thin tissue paper, his eyes widened for just a second before he scoffed and dropped the lid and tissue to the floor. How could Rick possibly think it was something Morty would want to wear? Well, it certainly wasn't the most revealing costume at least, but it was still embarrassing.

Rick was leaning against the door frame when the door finally opened. He turned around and immediately gave Morty that heart-melted smile, topping off the embarrassment by placing his hands over his heart.

“This is ridiculous, Rick,” Morty said, tugging at the red kerchief poking out from under the low V-cut collar of the navy blue sailor suit. It was a typical long-sleeved sailor uniform with two white bars running along the collar and cuffs with the collar squared in the back. The rest of the ensemble included matching navy shorts ending about three inches above the knees, as well as a white sailor hat with a black rim and an anchor insignia on the front. There were no shoes in the box, so Morty's feet were bare.

“Ah Morty, l-l-look at you. Just- just look.” Rick grabbed Morty by the shoulders and pushed him backwards into the room. He closed and locked the door, returned to Morty, and spun him around to face the mirror. “Now how great is that?”

“I look like a little boy.”

“Morty, that is so disrespectful. Do you know who wears sailor suits, Morty?”

“Toddlers and Japanese school girls.”

“Sailors, Morty. Is what I was getting at. Notoriously fucking foul-mouthed adventurers who take zero shit and traverse… storms, bad weather, you name it. Sailors don't give a _fuck_ , Morty. D-do ya hear what I'm getting at?”

“Yeah Rick, and you know I'm really getting mixed messages here. You want a… a tough adventurer type? Or a subservient dog?”

Rick let out a rough sigh and dropped his hands on Morty's shoulders, the weight of which felt heavy and overbearing to Morty. But then Rick slid his arms forward and clasped his hands in front of Morty's chest, holding him close.

“Morty… You're my right hand man on my adventures. All my adventures.” Rick released his hold on Morty and walked to his dresser, grabbing something off the top – something metal that Morty didn't get a good enough look at before it disappeared behind Rick's leg. He returned to his spot behind Morty, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him facing the mirror. “It's easy to forget how strong someone like you can be. You know, c-cause you're so little and cute.”

Morty blushed. There were times such a comment could be a compliment, but now did not feel like one of those times. “What's your point, Rick?”

“I just assumed you realized that I never forgot.” Rick ran a finger down Morty's back, nail dragging against the material of the sailor top. “Damn you make a sexy sailor boy. I'm glad I got… That I m-made you see it first.” Then, whatever Rick had behind his leg was brought out. He tugged the hem of Morty's sailor top and before Morty knew what was happening, he heard the “rrrrrip” of the scissor blade tearing up the back, followed by a “snip snip snip” once they reached the collar.

Before he could finish, Morty clapped his hands over his chest and turned around. “Rick!” He could feel the air on his back and the material flap against his shoulder blades. “W-w-why would you do that?”

Rick snipped the scissors in the air and scowled. “You idiot, Morty! You think these costumes mean anything? You think I'm using them t-t-to escape from you or something? You think I have it so bad? I went a lifetime not caring about a damn thing, you think some pieces of fabric sewn together by a bunch of fffactory workers and weirdo fetishists are gonna be the thing I place stock in? Here.”

He thrust the handle of the scissors into Morty's clumsy hands before walking to one of the boxes at the other end of the room. He pulled out what Morty quickly recognized as the tail. Rick carried it over and stretched it out horizontally in front of Morty. Morty hesitated a moment, then slowly lifted the scissors, pressing the open V into the material. Rick nodded and Morty cut the tail in two, and he couldn't help but smile as Rick tossed the two uneven pieces to the other end of the room.

“I care about _you_ , you dummy.” Rick grabbed hold of the front of Morty's top and gave it three hard jerks before the rest of the material tore apart. Between them, they worked the sleeves off Morty's arms, letting the top fall to the floor. The collar had flipped up and slipped under the red kerchief, still in tact and dangling in a knot at Morty's chest. Rick pulled the cloth taught. Morty gave a sheepish smile and brought the scissors up, cutting the cloth free and letting it fall to the floor. He then removed his hat and Frisbee-tossed it to the other side of the room.

“Yeah Morty,” Rick cheered. He wrapped his arms around Morty, hands clenched into fists pressed hard against his upper back. Morty slowly lifted his arms, pressing himself harder into Rick. With his cheek against Rick's chest, he could hear his heartbeat. Rick pulled back and planted a firm, needy kiss to Morty's lips, and when they separated, Morty felt his throat tighten. Rick pulled him to the cot and sat him down, taking the scissors from his hand. He knocked the box to the floor and dropped the scissors into it. Morty reclined back on the cot, propped up on his elbows and knees raised. Quickly, Rick stripped his coat off, letting it fall to the floor as well. He crawled onto the cot, lowering himself over Morty and cupping his cheeks, staring adamantly into his eyes. Their foreheads touched, and Rick whispered:

“I love you, Morty. More than anything.”

“R-r-really?”

Rick nodded, burying his face in Morty's neck and planting another deep kiss there. Morty squeezed his arms around him, drinking up his weight. Rick kissed his way to Morty's ear, nuzzled his nose to it, and whispered Morty's name over and over as if to make up for any moment Morty didn't think he was thinking of him. They pressed themselves bodily into one another.

Slowly, Rick pulled back enough to kiss down Morty's neck and chest, each kiss deep and territorial. When he reached his soft belly, Morty giggled and placed his hand lightly on Rick's head. Rick tugged the shorts down to kiss and nip at Morty's hip bone before unbuttoning them and sliding the shorts and underwear off, dropping them to the floor with everything else. Then Rick surprised Morty by grabbing his hips and lifting his butt off the bed.

“Rick?” Morty called up as Rick rose on his knees and positioning Morty's legs so that the back of Morty's thighs rested on his shoulders.

Rick's hands gripped the small of Morty's back to hold him up, and he pressed multiple kisses to Morty's inner thigh, Morty's cock hardening as a response. Rick looked down into Morty's curious and eager eyes and said, “I wanna watch you, Morty.”

Instantly, Rick's mouth engulfed Morty's erection, hot and wet and desperate. Morty fisted his hands into the sheets, tossing his head to the side and gasping at the overwhelming sudden passion. Rick slurped and sucked with meaning, his eyes watching every twinge of Morty's body, every change of Morty's face. Saliva gushed over Rick's lower lip and down his chin, and Morty's eyes bulged, unable to focus as they rolled around in the midst of his impassioned and ragged whines.

“Ahh Rick! Ah! Hohh…,” he babbled as his body quivered in its awkward angle.

Rick grunted and moaned around Morty's member, his fingers digging into the tender flesh of Morty's lower back. When Morty locked his ankles together between Rick's shoulder blades and seized, Rick knew he was already about to blow, so he let out a deep moan in the back of his throat and took Morty fully into his mouth, lower lip hot against his balls.

Morty came hard, hips bucking wildly in Rick's concentrated hold. In that moment, Morty's eyes found Rick's, still watching him with an interest that was too much for Morty and caused him to throw an arm over his flushed, moaning face.

Rick waited for Morty to finish, body limp and spent, before swallowing the full load, making Morty gasp once more at the final, overstimulated suckle. He then lowered Morty's legs to the bed before fitting himself on his side between Morty and the wall. He stroked Morty's hair, watching his chest's heavy rise and fall. But when Rick grabbed Morty's arm and moved it off his face, Morty quickly rolled to hide against Rick's chest.

“Morty,” Rick whispered, almost cooed. “I gotta show you something.”

“What?” Morty mewled, not wanting to move.

“Roll over,” Rick ordered, and Morty did with great effort. “See that?” Rick pointed at the mirror.

“Uh-huh.”

Rick draped his arm over Morty and squeezed him. “That's the only Morty I wanna fuck. This one right here.” He squeezed at Morty's ribs, eliciting a whiny, giggly wriggle from him. Then Rick buried his face in Morty's hair,and quietly he said, “That's the Morty I fell in love with.”

Morty blushed and opened his mouth only to realize he didn't have anything to say. Rick dropped his head down on the pillow behind Morty, closing his eyes and letting his arm go limp over Morty's shoulder. He grumbled, “You better r-remember that cause I'm not gonna explain myself every- a-all the damn time.”

While Rick pretended to sleep, a smile spread out on Morty's face. He laced his fingers through Rick's and closed his own eyes, pressing himself back against his grandfather.

*~*~*

A few days later, Morty was in his room avoiding homework when Rick suddenly threw his door open.

“Come on, Morty! We gotta go! We gotta… an adventure to go to, Morty!”

“Oh jeez, Rick. W-what is it?”

“I'll tell you in the ship. We gotta go!” Rick said, dashing back out of the room and down the stairs.

When Morty made his way down to the garage and climbed into the passenger seat, Rick started the ignition and began his rambling explanation of where they were going before he looked at Morty, did a double take, and said:

“I thought you threw that away.”

Morty adjusted the sailor hat on his head and shrugged. “I dunno, I-I thought it looked kinda… kinda cool.”

Rick scowled at Morty for a second, then threw his arms in the air. “Y-y-you look like an idiot, Morty! Absolutely ridiculous. I should make you throw that thing in the garbage. But I won't. In fact, I'll let you wear it just so you know how ridiculous you look. Not cute at all, Morty.”

At first Morty glared back. But then he grinned, shook his head, and buckled his seat belt. “Sure, Rick.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check out [this extra adorable fan art](http://triplex-tyrant.tumblr.com/post/152078920640/iwrecksmolsons-sorry-ive-been-inactive-yall) by tumblr user/artist iwrecksmolsons, inspired by this fic!
> 
> Then check out [this uber adorable fan art](http://triplex-tyrant.tumblr.com/post/160894904520/97moreyearsmorty-some-fanart-i-did-of-one-of-my) by tumblr user/artist 97moreyearsmorty, inspired by the fic!


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